Red Everywhere
by spicehnoodles
Summary: He says because he trusts himself with her. It would've been romantic if he wasn't talking about his body. - lamia


Lamia narrowed her eyes at the bottle in Furuichi's hands.

"I see how it is," she said in a low tone.

Furuichi's eyes glanced back and forth, from the bottle and then to the petite girl a couple of feet away from him. He looked at her confusedly. "You see … what now?" he asked.

Okay, she shouldn't have expected anything more. This was _Furuichi_, for crying out loud. He had a filter that was only set for boobies, attractive females, and boobies. If someone that seemed intimidating was 25 feet away from him, he would hide behind her — yes, hide behind her, a tiny girl that barely reached his shoulders — or immediately scamper away.

"Why are you holding a bottle of lotion?"

"Why _else _would I be holding a bottle of lotion?"

"Is something supposed to be happening right now?"

"Yeah, you're supposed to rub it all over me. That's why I called you over here."

Yes, people. This was Furu-_mothereffin'-ugly-ass-idiot_-ichi right here.

"And _why in the world would I do such a horrendous thing_?!" Lamia screeched, reaching her breaking point. Her cheeks were tinted with an embarrassing red hue. Her fingers were feeling all tingly.

Furuichi furrowed his eyebrows. What was up with her? He was asking for a simple favor. It was nothing harmful or burdensome. She was his friend. Friends rubbed lotion on friends.

So he used that seemingly logical thought: "Because you're my friend."

"FRIENDS DON'T DO THOSE THINGS, YOU DAMN EGGHEAD."

_Whoa, she's red_, he thought. Strangely, he wasn't afraid. Usually when people had those expressions on, he would get frightened instantly. It was an automatic emotion for him, unfortunately. With Lamia, it was different.

Furuichi hissed in pain all of a sudden. He rolled his shoulder back slowly even though the action did nothing for the searing pain. He held out the bottle of calamine lotion towards her.

"Rub it already! It's hurting!" he wailed. He wanted to cry.

"Hurting? Did someone beat you up again?!" Lamia tried not to sound concerned — which wasn't hard, because one: he always got beat up, two: she wanted him to get beat up; it satisfied her sadistic thirst, and three: she _was _pissed off at him (or more like flustered).

"No, I got sunburned!" His lower lip began quivering.

Dear God, she had a crush on the wimpiest 16-year-old.

(NOT THAT SHE DID.)

She roughly wiped a hand down her face. This was getting out of hand. She literally felt like pulling out her hair from the roots. A headache was starting to form.

"What does that have to do with _me_, then?!" she asked, desperately wanting to go home and vent to Hilda-neesan. Her presence never failed to calm her.

"Hel-_lo_! I just told you! I want you to rub this lotion all over my sunburned areas!"

"Why didn't you just say that before?!" She noticed she had been asking one too many questions.

"Like that'll make a difference!"

"Well, if you thought it wouldn't make a difference, then what was the point in asking me?!"

"I asked you, 'cause I trust you!"

And the loser silenced her.

Now that wasn't nice. He just cannot rile her up like that to the point where she would combust from the fiery irritation flaring in her being and then just throw something that would stun her into speechlessness. It wasn't nice. It wasn't cool. It was downright rude.

(Or so she thought.)

Earlier, Furuichi, Oga, and Baby Beel headed down to the local pool. Furuichi wasn't in the mood to go anywhere today, because he just got a new game he had been anticipating and saving up for. A fantasy conjured up into his mind where Hilda would be wearing a skimpy as hell but sexy as hell bikini just for him at the pool.

As always, his fantasies never came true. It was only Oga and Beelzebub once he arrived. Apparently Hilda got into a fight with Oga, because the fool didn't get the precise diapers she had demanded him to get. She kicked him out to get the ones she had demanded, but instead, Oga rebelled and chose to go to the pool.

Oga was going to _get _it later on. Poor guy.

As soon as Lamia relented (reluctantly and not reluctantly), without a warning, Furuichi stripped off his T-shirt, showing his lanky form for her green eyes to see. She squeaked quietly, blushing hardcore. She attempted to stray her sight away from the very male teenager, but they were glued to him, much to her dismay.

Furuichi's face melted into a relieved expression once he felt the cool draft of the wind blowing from the window. He tossed the lotion to the incredibly disconcerted female. She didn't catch it, and the bottle clocked her in the forehead.

That woke her.

"What the hell?!" she screamed, rubbing the sore spot.

"You weren't paying attention!"

"Just — Just lay down!"

He immediately obeyed her request.

She perched herself upon the small of his lobster-red back, thighs folded on either side of him. Her face already resembled the searing red on Furuichi's back. She squirted a dollop of cream on the palm of her hand and rubbed it with her other painstakingly.

Yes, she was indeed taking her time.

"Hurry _up_!"

And Furuichi noticed.

She smacked her lotion-covered palms onto his back. He hissed out loud and groaned, profanities traveling out of his mouth. She then proceeded to rub the cream all over the red portions of his body. He sighed in pure, pure relief.

_I am in heaven_, Furuichi thought, a lazy smile forming on his tranquil face.

"Why do you have a lot on your back, anyways?" Lamia asked. Her eyebrows were furrowed down. She was now concentrating on the task at hand.

"I was, um — whoa, that feels good — lying on my stomach, catching some rays." The lotion really was working wonders. He could practically feel the coolness seeping into his burned skin. Maybe it was Lamia's soft, meticulous hands, too.

While Lamia rubbed the lotion, her tiny fingers began massaging into his tense muscles. Underneath her fingers, she could feel the knots in them. She could tell that the idiot wasn't sleeping right. She could also tell they were from the countless times he was abused by, well, everyone.

As soon as he felt Lamia's fingers dig deeply into his back, Furuichi couldn't suppress another satisfied groan. This little girl sure knew what she was doing. This was exactly what he needed. Lately, Oga had been pissed since Hilda had been pissed. With that being said, Oga physically vented out his anger at Furuichi randomly. If Furuichi beat him at a game, Oga would smack him across the head. If Furuichi began whining, Oga would sock him in the stomach. It was never ending, really.

Lamia smirked at the white-haired boy's satisfaction. She was an impeccable masseuse. She massaged Hilda-neesan many, many times and was always complimented by her for her dexterous abilities. She worked under Dr. Forkas, who taught her many complementary alternative methods for the patients like acupuncture (which was her favorite, but dammit, Furuichi didn't have sharp enough needles).

Furuichi turned his head to compliment Lamia when something caught his eye favorably. He stiffened.

Lamia took his sudden stiffness lightly. She assumed she found a part in his aching muscles that needed extra kneading.

His widened eyes were staring directly at Lamia's exposed thighs. Now, Lamia's thighs were okay. She was short and skinny. She had nice skin, but that was it. Up close, however, was an entirely different perspective. Her skirt rode up, exposing more skin than necessary.

A wild realization occurred. Lamia was on his back. She was wearing a skirt. Her thighs were actually great. She was wearing panties, no shorts underneath. Her legs were on either side of him. She was on his back. Panties. Thighs. Panties. Back. She.

"Hey," Lamia called, slightly interrupting his newfound thoughts directed at her. "Loosen up. I can't get the kinks in her latissimus dorsi."

Furuichi had no idea what the hell that was, and frankly, he didn't give a damn. All he knew was that Lamia was a girl. Her height and looks deceived most; she looked like she was 10- or 12-years-old when she wasn't.

She began situating herself properly on his back. Her butt was getting numb.

Once she did that, her bare thighs brushed against his bare waist. He stiffened even more.

"Did you not _hear_ me?! Loosen up!"

"I … " Shit, he was speechless. He never once thought of her in _that _way.

"Whoa, Furuichi, why is your face suddenly red? Late sunburn?" She paused. "Wait, is that possible? I'll have to check with Dr. For — "

"You — You c-c-can stop now!" Furuichi croaked out, face redder than his back. "I'm good. Thanks, Lamia. You can go now. Bye."

"I'm not done massaging you, though. You have a lot of kinks in your back."

"That's fine."

"Furuichi — oh!"

Furuichi abruptly got up, making Lamia fall off on his bed instantaneously. He promptly turned around to apologize, but his words got cut short yet again. Lamia was on her back, knees bent. He could clearly see her —

He gulped.

A nerve twitched on her temple. Lamia growled and sat upright. She trained her glowering eyes towards the red-faced male. She punched the bed with her small fists, hearing the bed springs react.

"What the hell was that?! You practically _beg _me to rub lotion all over your sunburns, and then _this _is how you treat me?! Huh?!" she all but screamed at him. This time, her face was an angry red. She crossed her arms over her chest, calming down _partially_. "Explain yourself. Now."

It was actually painful attempting to _not _stare at his discovery. Normally, he wouldn't mind with other girls like Hilda-san and Kunieda-san, but it was a dissimilar matter with Lamia. It felt wrong. He thought of her as a rare female friend, one that he didn't ogle or felt feelings for.

Guilt prickled inside of him. He didn't want to like her after seeing that she had nice, smooth legs. She was the only person who didn't belittle him every single minute. Sure she would criticize his idiocy and inappropriate behavior, but she never looked at him with inferiority.

Furuichi was always surrounded by people that could easily beat him up, treat him offensively, or sexually harass him (yes, like Alaindelon). So, with her, it was nice to have a sense of peace and normalcy. It was nice to have a friend that didn't constantly poke fun at him.

Their friendship would collapse if he continued his attraction towards her.

"It's just that you have thighs," he bluntly stated. He cursed himself inwardly for being careless with his words. He needed to work on watching what he said. Since he was so used to being beaten up for his reckless words, it came naturally. He had to set limits for his mouth.

A look of puzzlement appeared on Lamia's face. She glanced briefly at her thighs and then back at the 16-year-old, one pink eyebrow raised up. "Um … okay? It's part of my anatomy. You have thighs, too."

At the mention of the word "anatomy," Furuichi's hormones took a wild drive. He waved his hands in front of his face, eyes shut tightly, hoping to erase the obscene images. He was already getting out of control.

_He's acting so strange, jeez. _Lamia rolled her eyes at his antics. She beckoned him over with her hand. "C'mere, let me just finish massaging your shoulders, then, all right?" she told him.

Oh, of course not. She wasn't massaging him to be near him. Dear, dear, no. She didn't want to make him feel good, because she didn't enjoy seeing him in pain. Oh, no, no, no.

Furuichi sighed and relented at the idea. Her fingers were _really _—

He immediately sat down in front of her, trying not to feel anything unnecessary at the touch of her hands.

* * *

Lamia stretched out her fingers. They were sore from the tight kinks Furuichi had.

She looked over to Furuichi who had an expression of pure ecstasy. His eyes were glazed over, eyelids drooping. He had a content smile planted on. He was lying on his back, one hand resting on his stomach.

_He looks so cuddly right now_, she thought, biting her lip. Then, she snapped out her foreign thoughts. _Ew, what was that?!_

She made a motion to leave. She couldn't take the ambience floating around the room.

Just as she was about to reach for the door handle, his voice came: "Hey, where are you going?"

Lamia twirled around to regard him. "I need to visit Dr. Forkas. I can't afford to slack off on my work," she lied.

Furuichi stood up from his bed. He had a grave expression on his face from her perspective. In actuality, though, he was panicking. He didn't want to do this, but he just had to. There was no other way. She was the only qualified to do it.

"There's still some more."

"Sun — " her voice cracked, so she cleared it " — burns?"

He nodded.

"Oh, uh, um … where?"

He began pulling his pants down.

* * *

_— gah, every time I think of these two, I just wanna squeal!_


End file.
